


Red Ribbon Glow

by timehopper



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 06:24:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20003770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timehopper/pseuds/timehopper
Summary: McCree and Mercy enjoy a romantic night together - with a little red twist.





	Red Ribbon Glow

**Author's Note:**

> The winner of June's monthly prompt-suggestion poll. The prompt was "McMercy with red ribbon shibari" :) 
> 
> This was available for early-access a month ago offsite. If you'd like early access to future monthly fics, or if you want to submit prompts for monthly fics and/or have some say in what gets written each month, check out how by clicking on some of my links in the end notes!

McCree slides his hand along the ribbon, red and smooth and shimmering against the glow of the candles. He smiles to himself as he ties the final knot, as he loops the ribbon around itself and weaves it into a proper tie, and he tugs at it, once, twice, just to make sure the harness is tight but not restrictive. It has a tiny bit of give, just enough that he can slip a finger under it and it won’t come undone. 

“How’s it feel?” he asks, taking a step back to admire his handiwork. Angela’s fingers curl and uncurl behind her back. Her wrists twitch, inelegant, against the ribbon that binds them before they settle again, relaxed. For a moment, McCree worries that he’s tied them too tight, but she turns her neck to smile at him over her shoulder. 

“Perfect, Jesse.” She turns back away from him and lowers her head, silently asking for assistance. McCree is at her back in the space between breaths, reaching for her ponytail and loosening the tie that holds it up. Angela’s hair falls in a cascade over her shoulders, golden and glowing in the dim candlelight. From behind, she looks every bit the angel she’s named for: it’s only the absence of white, fluffy wings that reminds McCree that she is, indeed, flesh and blood and bone, just like him. 

Angela turns around. She smiles softly at him and McCree can’t help himself: he takes her face in his hands and pulls her to him, presses his lips against hers as gently as he can, as if he’s afraid she’ll break if he pushes too hard (though he knows, from experience, she won’t). 

He keeps it chaste, though every bone in his body aches for her. Angela realizes, two seconds in, and huffs a laugh against his lips. When McCree pulls away, his smile matches hers. 

“Shall we?” she asks. 

McCree nods. “Anything you want, sweetheart.” 

He steps away from her, eyes never leaving her body. Angela stands there, not quite obediently, but patiently, watching as he unbuttons his shirt. He can’t help but think what a waste it is, her watching him when she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

The harness is imperfect. McCree is still relatively new to shibari, and the ribbon they had chosen is much different than the ropes they’d been practicing with thus far. No amount of instruction from Genji could have made it better, but for what it is, it’s beautiful: a simple enough Y-harness over her wrists and chest, and beneath it, a karada dress. 

McCree discards his shirt and jeans and backs up to the bed. When he beckons, Angela follows the motion, walking with delicate steps until she’s right in front of him, standing between his legs. McCree runs his fingertips along the ribbons, languishing in the softness of them, in how smoothly his fingers glide along the soft material. Angela’s skin is cool where he brushes it, and she shivers against the light friction of his movements. 

“Jesse,” she whispers. “Please.” 

“I know,” he says right back. “I promise I’ll take good care of you. But let me look for a minute first, will you? Seems a shame not to admire how stunnin’ you are all tied up like this.” 

He presses his lips to her chest, just above where the ropes cross her sternum, and looks up at her from beneath his lashes. It’s an uncharacteristically coy look, but right now, he feels almost unworthy of being in her presence. She’s  _ radiant _ .

Angela smiles down at him, bows her head and presses a kiss to McCree’s forehead. “Just a moment longer, then.” 

He takes as much of a moment as she will allow, alternating between pressing kisses along the edges of the ribbons and pulling away to admire the contrast between their deep, alluring red and the milky paleness of her skin. He runs his hands along her sides, up and down, the texture of the ribbons breaking up the soft, smooth feeling of her skin and sending shivers down his spine. McCree almost feels guilty for the way his cock twitches when she sighs into the touch, like he’s just here to worship her and any desire her figure evokes in him is wrong. Sinful.

But sin is the farthest thing from his mind when Angela slowly shifts and slides to her knees. She presses her cheek first into McCree’s thigh, then her lips, lingering as long as she will allow herself. McCree reaches down and runs a hand through her loose hair, combing through it and letting it fall back into place. Angela hums, but at last, backs away and looks up. When she meets his eyes, McCree nods. 

“Come here.” 

Angela stands again, for just a moment: just long enough McCree can pull her to him, lift her up and maneuver her so her body is flush with his, one leg on either side of him. He wraps his arms around her, places his hands at the small of her back, and presses his cheek to her chest. He kisses her breast, mouths at it just beside the nipple, and Angela gasps. She twitches in his hold when he flicks it with his tongue, and she bucks against him when he takes it fully into his mouth and sucks.

She whimpers as she rocks against him, as the ribbons dig into the crooks of her thighs and McCree’s cock slides past her labia. He moves between her folds with ease, aided by the arousal beginning to trickle from her, and with every slow, gentle thrust, he brushes against her steadily-swelling clit. 

“Jesse, ah…” Angela’s eyes flutter shut and she curls in on herself, but a hand pressing against her back quickly coaxes her into arching it. She mewls and rocks her hips more insistently. 

“I know, I know,” McCree says. The hand not on her back reaches up to pet her hair, to soothe her. “Just a little longer, sweetheart. I gotcha.” 

She presses herself into him. McCree turns his head to kiss Angela’s neck, right where it meets her shoulder. He bites it, lightly, and she gasps into his ear. The sound - the  _ feeling _ of her breath catching - sends a chill through McCree, and his cock twitches again. Angela shivers in his hold; her skin prickles with goosebumps. She’s already close.

McCree speeds up. Angela’s hips rock more violently, more desperately, against him, and in a moment she’s coming undone, the pressure of the ribbons digging into her pulling an orgasm from her just as much as McCree rubbing against her clit. He doesn’t stop, though, doesn’t quite let her relax; as Angela comes, wet and shuddering above him, McCree pushes forward, slips his cock inside her warm, welcoming hole. 

She clenches around his cock and McCree groans, muffling the sound by biting into her neck. She moans as he fucks up into her slowly, gently, and she flutters around him as he guides her through her orgasm.

When she finally relaxes again, McCree reaches up and tangles his fingers in her hair. He combs through it gently and kisses a short line up her neck as far as he can reach, until she turns her head to meet him. They kiss, long and deep and slow, as McCree continues to roll his hips up into her. 

Angela sighs through her nose, calm and blissful and content. When she pulls away, she smiles lazily at McCree. For a moment, he pauses, savors the look - commits it to memory, stows it away in the corners of his mind for a bad day. And then he starts again, picks up his rhythm, thrusts harder and faster, just enough to get her eyes to slip shut and her lips to part in a silent moan. 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he mutters against her neck. “Let me see you, Ange. Please.” 

He isn’t sure if she hears him, but she tosses her head back, lets her hair fall like a curtain down past her shoulders. McCree’s hands follows it, caressing it until he reaches the tips and then beyond, resting at last on the knots of her harness. He grabs it, gently, and tugs, forcing her to arch her back and expose herself to him.

McCree’s eyes slide over her torso, drinking in the sight of her and how the ribbons perfectly frame her breasts. They bounce with every thrust, and McCree kisses them, one after the other, then moves between them, kissing a line along the ribbons. He feels Angela clench down around him again, impossibly tight, and knows she’s just come again. He pulls away to marvel at her, pink lips spread wide open as she cries out, muscles tense beneath the karada dress and Y-harness. She glows in the candlelight, radiant and resplendent, and McCree is more in love with her than ever before. 

He holds her close until they’ve both finished, stays inside her until he comes and later grows soft. When he pulls out, Angela shudders and falls limp, held up by nothing but McCree’s firm hands on her. 

He helps her to her feet, holds her steady until her legs stop quivering. When she’s able to stand on her own, McCree gently turns her around so he can carefully untie the knots at her back and free her arms.

When she’s unbound, Angela turns around to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. He pulls her into his lap and she stays there, humming against his lips, until she pushes him down against the bed and cuddles up against his side.

McCree wraps his arms around her and pulls her close. The dress can wait. For now, he just wants to bask in her glow a moment longer. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and would like to see more, have a chat, or find out how to support me, please check out my twitter [@tim3hopp3r](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r) or follow my writing blog [@intim3ate](https://intim3ate.tumblr.com), where I post progress, WIPs, and take requests.
> 
> If you would like to find out how to support me, I have a handy list of links right [here](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r/status/1122210346939244544). Please check it out! I wouldn't be able to do this without people like you supporting me. ♥
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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